Chapter 5
Clarke didn’t go to school for three days. The first day, she had spent tossing and turning in her bed, groaning and struggling to get comfortable, struggling just to breathe. Her father spent the afternoon sitting with her, they watched nature documentaries from a century ago on his work tablet. The second day, Wells skipped school to sneak in and spend the day curled up with her and making dumb jokes to cheer her up. In between grimaces, there were snippets of light laughter. But when Abby found them, she sent Wells home with a warning glare and a clicking tongue that warned him that his father would definitely hear about this. That night, alone, she squeezed her right hand, the same way she did the previous night, and hoped that her soulmate would understand. Whatever was happening, they needed comfort. If she could give even an ounce of that, she would do anything she could. But with the way her chest continued to ache, she feared that perhaps it was doing the opposite.
The third day, the pain had lessened enough that she could move, and she spent the day doing make-up school work so that she could catch up with her missed classes. Every few minutes though, a twinge of pain rocketed through her chest and doubled her over with a desperate need for air.
She could only imagine how her soulmate was feeling.
The fourth day, there was barely any pain at all. The aching had become so muted that Clarke had full range of motion and full extent of her lungs. Of course, just because the pain was gone didn’t mean that she focused at all during class. In fact, quite the contrary. She was entirely too distracted by how strangely fast her soulmate had recovered from debilitating pain. It terrified her.
The numbness lasted about a week before pain returned in force. Clarke could ignore it most of the time, but at this point the aching, sharp, crushing pain in her chest was ever present. There was no end, and the only time she ever got a break from the pain was when there were other pains across the rest of her body. Someone was beating the hell out of her soulmate and it was the only time her chest wasn’t aching with the desperate need for air.
When the pain was particularly bad, and there was no sharp aches and jabs across her ribs, face, or back, Clarke took to squeezing her hand in a desperate attempt to calm her soulmate in some way. But it did nothing.
Lexa rode a new horse, her old mare had been retired a few weeks prior. She’d be used for breeding purposes now. The stallion she sat atop now was a gift from the Plains Rider Clans, they bred powerful beasts, brilliantly trained, and absolutely unbeatable. Nowhere else in the twelve clans could horses like theirs be found. Her stallion was black as night, and its muscles rippled underneath the short, glistening coat of fur. It was a powerful horse for a powerful leader. He was young, fresh from breaking and training, and he did wonders for her image of unflinching power.
Just like her stallion, Lexa was cold. But she’d hardly allow anyone to see that. She paced before the line of warriors behind her. Most of her army lied in wait behind the line of trees, but she only wanted to hint at power and devastation. A month of starvation and desperation, Nia’s warriors would be weak and tired. Meeting at this battlefield, they’ll find that Lexa will take nothing but a full surrender.
“Heda,” Anya broke the absolute silence with a nod of her head, pointing beyond Lexa with her chin.
Lexa turned her mount and bared her teeth at the sight of glinting swords. Furs, mostly white, covered the oncoming army, pitifully small, thousands compared to Lexa’s hundreds of thousands. Lexa lifted her head and squared her shoulders. “Jus drein jus daun!” She shouted.
The army behind her chanted those four words, a roaring, cacophony of voices echoing across the barren field. Snow hadn’t come quite yet, but frost made the grass beneath them brittle. The chanting continued, deafening and strong. It filled Lexa with power. It invigorated her.
Revenge would be hers today.
“Jus drein jus daun.” Lexa whispered as the army behind her shouted and screamed. Swords clashed on shields and feet stomped onto the frozen tundra ground.
Perhaps four hundred yards away, Nia stopped her army. Entirely on foot, her warriors stood strong and tall, swiveling heads to see the end of Lexa’s army. But there would be no end, Lexa had so many people, they were stretched out from one horizon to the other. No end in sight. Nia paced at the front on her own steed. It was shaggy and not well taken care of, evidently it had been a long and perilous walk from where they came. Lexa pitied the animal. It had no business slaving away for the monster on its back.
Nia turned her head, barking orders, and slowly, a white rag raised into the air, an infantry man pacing forth, panting to keep up with the quick trot of Nia’s horse.
“Anya, Gustus,” Lexa barked.
The army behind her instantly silenced. Ready to pounce, they were willing to rush forward at any moment to slay the Azgeda where they stood.
Lexa didn’t bother to check if they were following, she knew they were, and the three started forward to meet Nia in the center. “Bring the Azgeda filth.”
Gustus yanked his rope and stumbling forward, Toronto tripped, unable to catch himself, his nose broke on the frozen ground. “Get up.” The bear of a man grunted.
Toronto was dragged several yards before he managed to regain his feet. Lexa did not bother to speed her horse forward to meet Nia in the center. The Queen would wait for her, the Commander is not to be hurried.
Lexa stopped her stallion two yards from where Nia waited, atop her dreadlocked horse, its long fur allowed it to survive cold winters, but its fur was filthy and matted, Nia couldn’t even spare the servants to care for her horses. In fact, likely it was the last horse left alive. Her cavalry may have been slayed for food, by the looks of her army, they had run out of food many weeks ago.
Lexa met Nia’s gaze with a steely one of her own. “This is your last chance, Nia. Surrender, or my army will strike you and your warriors down where they stand, and burn the rest of your clan to the ground.”
Nia did not react, merely watched Lexa’s warriors shift hungrily along the tree line. “You gathered every warrior at your disposal? I’m honored.”
Lexa practically snarled. “You’d be a fool to think this is all of my warriors.”
Nia smiled a disgusting, wolfish smile. Perhaps it’d be terrifying if the rest of her body wasn’t so hollowed out from her own starvation. Even the Queen struggled to find food enough for herself. “You’d be a fool to bring all of your warriors here anyway.”
“If these are the terms of your surrender, then they’re denied.” Lexa hissed, jerking the reigns of her mount and turning the stallion back towards her army.
“Don’t turn your back on me!” Nia snarled.
Lexa glanced at her over her shoulder. “Why? Because you’re a queen?” Lexa tisked. “You’re not worth my attention.”
Lexa managed two paces before Nia swallowed her pride. “I don’t surrender. I’ve come to discuss the Azgeda entrance to the Coalition of Allied Clans.”
Lexa froze. Her heart just about stopped in her chest. “You think you’re worthy of mercy?” She snarled, whipping her reigns and turning the poor stallion so fast Gustus’ horse startled and Toronto was nearly kicked in the face.
“You think any of the eleven clans will accept you as an ally?” Lexa growled. “Your people don’t even respect the most ancient, spiritual bond shared by all of the human race! Your prized warrior, my prisoner, betrayed his own Keryontai!” Nia raised her chin and Gustus yanked Toronto forward. “My people do not accept savages as allies.” Lexa gnashed her teeth.
Nia’s eyes flashed. “My people are starving! Burning their clothes for warmth and then freezing when the fires die! Winter will arrive in just another month or so and my people are desperate for wood, food, horses.” Nia advanced her horse. “If you truly stand for peace, prosperity, you will lift the blockades and you will let Azgeda in.”
Lexa watched Nia, steely green gaze boring holes in Nia’s forehead. “We will discuss the terms of your surrender and entry into the coalition tomorrow. Anya, ensure that a watch is set up. I will not have the Azgeda attacking our army in the dead of night.” Lexa raised her chin. “I hope you are prepared to surrender all power to me, Nia Kom Azgeda. I will have final say and control over Azgeda territory and military from now on.”
Lexa turned her mount and trotted along. “Oh, and Nia?” She stopped once more, catching the attention of the disgraced queen. “I will have justice for Costia’s life. Not only will Toronto be executed, but you must pay as well.”
Nia glanced at her side, Roan had appeared, haggard and shaggy with an unkempt beard and long hair hanging in filthy strands in front of his face. “My son Roan was responsible for your lover’s death.” Nia simpered. “I had nothing to do with it.”
Lexa glared. Nia was lying, of course she was lying, but Lexa had no proof. Toronto was a member of Roan’s guard, after all. “Gustus, take him prisoner. I hope you don’t mind Nia, but I will keep the criminals with me, in my camp.” It was not a request.
Anya cantered forward to ride next to Lexa. “You plan on executing the prince?”
Lexa set her jaw, teeth grinding together. “No, I will not kill a man for a crime his mother committed. He will be banished. But not killed. Toronto, he will die.”
Anya nodded once. “What you are doing, Lexa, allowing Azgeda into the coalition-“
“If you are here to tell me I’m foolish, I don’t wish to hear it.”
“No.” Anya was quiet for a moment. “Costia would have been proud.”
Lexa let out a shuddering sigh. “I know, I’m doing this for her.”
“She always wanted peace.” Anya grunted. “Vengeance, justice, is only justifiable when it comes only at the expense of the wrongdoers. When innocent people are caught in the crossfire, it becomes blind, senseless violence.”
Lexa responded with silence. She had been privy to this sort of lesson from Anya throughout her childhood and training as a warrior, but this time, it seemed Anya was almost talking to herself. Lexa needed no justification for her decision. She would allow Nia into the coalition, but she will forfeit her pride and beg for entrance at Lexa’s feet.
Roan slumped behind Toronto as Gustus’ horse dragged the two men back towards the Kongeda line. Anya barked orders to the soldiers, immediately camp was set up and the forest nearly entirely cleared and trampled under the feet of hundreds of thousands of warriors. Lexa dismounted her horse and assisted two warriors in setting up her tent, she would need her throne, a table, and all of her maps and paperweights readied for tomorrow. Tomorrow would be a long day for Lexa.
Lexa had just finished buckling her sash across her shoulder the morning her Keryontai’s heart broke. The first hint of spring had finally broken through the perpetual cloud cover of winter, the sun shone bleakly and the streets were muddy with slushy snow that turned to watery boot prints the moment it was tread upon. The air was still crisp and dewy, but there was a certain smell to the air that Lexa couldn’t ever quite place, but she knew within her deepest, primal instincts that it meant life.
It was one of the first days in a long time that Lexa felt okay. A beautiful morning, a rare, nightmare-less night, and that spring smell, today would be okay, peace among the clans for several months straight, Polis ran with very few bumps in the road, in fact, the only tragedy to have struck her people so far this winter had been the death of Costia’s fos. Lydik had finally succumbed to his age.
But that morning, as she dressed herself, Lexa’s chest seemed to cave. Her knees gave out and she gasped for air, clawing at her chest and struggling to rid her heart of its painful squeezing.
For a moment, Lexa feared poison, but that made no sense. She had skipped her evening meal the previous day. No, this was her Keryontai.
That struck even more fear through Lexa’s heart. Her Keryontai very rarely felt any sort of pain. Bumps, bruises, nothing more, but this was devastating pain.
Several moments passed before the pain lessened enough for Lexa to straighten herself, duck her head through her bed chamber door, demand one of the guards fetch Titus, and slam her door once more. She wouldn’t be able to attend to all of her duties with this intense pain. She’d see to the natblidas, but she can't afford for her ambassadors to see any ounce of weakness within her. Even if it wasn’t her own pain, her ambassadors would remember years prior when Costia was killed.
Lexa wondered briefly if this was how her Keryontai had felt when Costia was delivered to her. She’d have Anya report to her on the movements of her warriors. Maybe this had something to do with the nomads in the dead zone, they’d been slowly edging into Sankru territories, and some of her warrior encounters with the nomads had ended violently.
Clarke could only think of the ground. The ground, the ground, the ground. The ground had unlimited food, unlimited water, unlimited air.
The ground had unlimited air.
The ground also had people on it. She knew that for a fact because her soulmate was down there. Of course, she’d never meet her soulmate. Never. She’s only a month or so from her birthday, she’s not entirely sure, the days blurred together here when all she had to tally time was the stroke of the charcoal in her fingers, but it’s not long now. And when she does turn eighteen, she’ll have a council trial, her fate will be decided then. But she knew she’ll be immediately floated. Treason wasn’t a trivial matter. Not like stealing someone’s boots or taking extra rations, Clarke would certainly be floated.
The ground had air though.
She finished the picture of the valley with a silent sigh and rolled to lie on her back on the cold cell floor next to her artwork. The tears came easily at first, but now she felt numb.
Well, not entirely numb.
She wanted to cry, she wanted to vomit, scream, claw her heart from her chest to stop this pain, but that wouldn’t bring her father back. It would only hurt her more. So she stared at the ceiling of her drab gray cell and wished she were tall enough to reach the untouched canvas above her.
She thought of her dad a lot. Jake would tell her to stop drawing on the walls and floors. He’d tell her not to use charcoal because the dust clogged the air vents and would only make things worse. But she was doomed anyway so what did it matter?
She almost didn’t notice it at first, the squeezing around her right hand. Her soulmate had never attempted to communicate with her. Not once. Not even when Clarke first tried to reach out to them. But when she did notice it, it was like someone had opened the floodgates behind her eyes.
Tears streamed down her temples and dripped to the floor beneath her head, wetting the crown of blonde hair surrounding her. She pressed her right hand close of her chest and curled in on herself. She wouldn’t ever meet this person, this person who had felt so much pain throughout their life but still found it within themselves to attempt to comfort Clarke in the darkest moment of her short life. Despite the distance between them, Clarke had a connection with this person, this completely mysterious person, she’d never met. This connection had been decided by something that even the Ark’s superior science and innovation couldn’t explain, and yet despite having never seen or talked to this person, Clarke found that it was the only comfort that she could draw from anywhere. In this cold, dark, metal cell, there was nothing familiar or friendly, all she had was a diminishing piece of charcoal, and the throbbing sensation of her soulmate’s attempt at comfort.
Clarke trembled and cried and gasped, and when she finally fell asleep, cradling her right hand against her chest, she felt at least slightly lighter. Her life was bleak, and getting bleaker by the minute as the clock ticked closer to her birthday, but she had this.